Swept Away
by antisoras
Summary: Helga/Arnold oneshot. Family troubles, and fluff, lots of fluff.


**Girl.**

With dim cold eyes, she touched lightly at her notepad, stroking long, slender fingertips across the school desk. Her eyes bored into the window beside her, and she couldn't help but admire the rain. Each droplet that was made of millions of molecules of water sprinkled against the glass, and her eyes glazed down, forward, and up to the ceiling when the school bell rang. It was time to go home, again. Of course, home was never where she went directly after school. There was no time for being miserable after school, and she would have to find some way to occupy herself, every single day. It was a simple routine. The small-framed female, Helga Pataki was her name, just could not find herself at home the majority of the hours of the day. She couldn't stand the thought of home, it drove her to a madness that was only capable of being concurred up by, as she put it, mad men. People of uncomfortable status, and she knew she was not one of them. Helga Pataki was not mad, nor was she lonely.

Her eyes thinned when she sat up, collecting the books on her desk and pulling them to her chest. Casually being the last one to exit the room, she kept her eyes on the floor. Things were a little different now, as much as she held up a front, things were growing hard to hide behind Helga's thick, stubborn shell. Plus, her uni-brow was gone, plucked off into nothingness, so it wasn't like she could be angry all the time. She was simply calm, she was coming into a woman, and frankly, she'd been feeling like she wasn't worth it. Everything was cold to the touch, that, or it'd grown old to her. Where could she turn to when she felt like nothing?

It was the winter now, and the cold was as unwelcoming as ever, and the question was growing scarcely. It wasn't so much 'where' she could turn, when she felt like nothing, but 'who'. She wasn't worth womanhood like Lila, or Rhonda, and their push-up bras. When she was young, she thought she cold hold on to at least Rhonda growing into her tomboy attitude, but it didn't stick. Age came like fire, and fire came like age; it seemed everyone's personality was disappearing. Everyone was disappearing, and everyone's hearts were molding to the times. Helga's hadn't. The only thing she was worried about was Football Head.

Aw, Football Head. He hadn't changed a bit since then. If there was anyone that still took note of Helga, even when she was losing her sparks. They'd still bump in the hall, she would still glare, and he would still apologize, those golden strands that shaped his hard jaw. She blushed at the thought, her cheeks a thousand shades of red when she looked up at nothing through her dark lashes. What would she do without the thought of his teal long sleeved tee, and deep eyes that didn't pay her much more than a polite state of mind. She almost broke in concealing such a simple fact, what else could she do?

She was far from beautiful, and even farther than ideal, and even Helga herself knew that Arnold could do much, much better. She always had the wandering thought of how things would go if it were her that took up space in his heart, she just didn't have anywhere near the courage to ask him. She let a sigh escape her chapping lips, avoiding the rain when she un-did her umbrella. The sky was nice when it grayed, as pessimistic as it sounded.

Helga liked it the way it was, and she loved the way rain felt on her skin. Though, if she let go of her umbrella, she could already see the entire scene play out. The vivid sound was already an echo in her thoughts.

_"Helga, what are you doing in those soaking clothes!" Her face would light up, as usual. They didn't want her to get sick? That had to be a sign, something had to be going well in her Father's head. Just as easily as the color returned to Helga's face, it left as it came. _

_ "You're soaking up the carpet. You just ruin everything, don't you?" He would huff off, and she would stand in the living room, alone. With the door open, she would only have time to think about how she deserved this for not being enough like her sister. As much as she despised her sister, she wished she could grow some sort of integrity that replicated Helga's older sibling. She would shrug it off, and go to her room, and get changed._

_ This routine was nothing new._

Unfortunately, this sad truth only made it so Helga didn't have enough courage to stand in the rain. She wanted to feel it, to feel something against her, to feel the liquid rush against her cheeks and learn feelings of admiration. Maybe the rain would love her, like she loved the rain.

Probably not, but what was wrong with her having hopes?

Then again, everything was wrong in that situation. She started down her street, and stopped at her usual stop, when a car sped by. The speed was unimaginable, and the loud honk of the horn alarmed her, even after she was drenched with murky rainwater. It was a rush of quick adrenaline, but her expression didn't change for more than a few seconds. The door of her stop opened, probably to the sounding of the car's booming slide, and there stood the boy of her every whimper, and every dream. She blinked twice, hair flattening when the rain slapped against it, hands fists at her sides; not only was she embarrassed for herself, now she was embarrassed for him. He had to stand there, wondering what the heck was going on, and now he was standing there, wondering why the heck Helga was all drenched in front of his porch.

"What are you looking at, F-Football Head?"

**Boy.**

Math was easy for Arnold, this class was easy in general. He'd never had problems with such things before, and he sure didn't now, but everything seemed to be clouding his mind this week. What on earth was it about 'this week' that had him unfocused, and a little disgruntled? He bit his lip when his pencil ran out of lead, looking up to the board when the bell rang, collecting his stuff and heading out of class. He wanted to get home quick, seeing as it was raining beyond reason. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that was getting at him, but the truth was he didn't want to go so far into his mind, as to the point where he could figure it out.

He didn't really enjoy figuring himself out, nor had Arnold ever. He was the type to just live life as it came, and not try to understand. He'd seen the people around him try and figure life out. They came out doing stupid things, and he was not one for stupid things. He wasn't raised for stupid things, and he wouldn't grow up to displease those that had raised him so well. He couldn't disappoint Grandma, and Grandpa. That was the last thing on his agenda, he had too much ahead of him.

Still, there were those heavy doubts that just about every teenager had. Especially Arnold.

Being without a mother and father was tough, but the feeling of understanding that you were without them was even tougher. He didn't like to think about it, so he didn't. Arnold was fairly fortunate enough to have that ability in his veins. He didn't have to think about anything that he was strong enough to push out of his head. As long as he was occupied, with the stars, or the sky, or the sounds around him, he didn't have to think about his mother or father. Stated simply enough, Arnold was fairly fortunate.

That was why 'this week' was so odd to him. He couldn't push away the lonely feelings away, for once. He couldn't make the desperate cravings for family go away, and though he had family; he had more family than less fortunate had, but he was still hopeful. He trusted that he was fortunate, and he was never greedy, nor anything near rude or grumpy, moreso appreciative, and understanding; but this week, he wanted more. Why was it him that had to deal with this life, without too many to share it with?

Loneliness was contagious, and seeing Gerald get a girlfriend had made him have even less of a resource for help. Gerald was always with his girlfriend, and now Arnold would walk straight home after school. He hung up his umbrella and speeded home, careful enough not to trip over any slippery rocks or nearby mud. He sighed, unlocking the door to his boarding home and going upstairs after a couple greetings from those around him, and a couple greetings from him, in return. He tried to smile, but he ended up hiding his face, his moist little short boots clicking and clacking against the stairs.

A 'Hey!' from Ernie, a mild 'Hello,' from Mr. Hyunh, and a wave from Susie. Phil, (Grandpa), and Pookie (Grandma) were busy arguing over a game of chess, but both made sure to turn and smile at their grandson. He finally reached his room, and leaned into his retracting couch, stretching his arms and legs. He closed his eyes for merely a moment, when he heard his name being called. He managed a chuckle, this would only keep him distracted from anything that could bother him.

"Shortman, could you see what's goin' on outside?" Phil yelled, and instantly returned to his game of chess. Arnold hopped to his feet, brushed off the one or two droplets of rain on his shoulders and headed down again, paying no mind to the mild aching in his knees. He opened the door open when he heard the loud honk of the horn, and the rain picked up. Down, at his porch, stood a soaked Helga Pataki, and a very swayed umbrella on the street beside her.

_"What are you looking at, F-Football Head?" _

Arnold smiled in a taunting simper, resisting the urge to run out in the rain and join her in the quick moment of bashfulness. She was so flustered, and it was so clear, it was almost funny. He grabbed his drying umbrella and stepped down without a care in the world. Suddenly, they'd disappeared. Her thin blonde curls were sticking to her face, and her eyes were dim, like there was a light that was going out inside of her. Every pulsing muscle in Arnold's body wanted to fix it.

"Don't you think you'll get sick like that, Helga?" He asked considerately. This was completely natural, and just as natural as his question, her reply kept persistent.

"I don't need your help, Football Head." Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, this was casual Helga. They hadn't spoken in too long, for more than a few seconds, like when they had when they were kids, but he couldn't deny her way into his chest. She was so different, but, still, there was everything about her that was wrong. He wasn't too fond of Helga Pataki, and he most certainly did not 'like-like' her. She was so rude, too.

He laughed gently at her quick comeback, running his tongue over his lips to crack over any nervousness. Helga had lost her composure already, and suddenly everything came into a crashing ship, like it was sinking, and sinking fast. He scratched at the back of his neck.

"Will you come inside and dry off, Helga?" He asked a little impatiently, but his tone didn't stop it's sweet sound. Helga looked to her feet, and back up to the boy a few steps away from her. She took a baby step forward, grabbing his umbrella from him and snatching it into her hand when they were both under the porch's roof cover. She sat it where it had been to dry, and entered his boarding home's ever-so-welcoming warmth. She almost cursed herself beneath her breath; she sounded just like Little Miss, Lila.

"Fine." She huffed, and crossed her wet lanky arms over her chest when she got inside. She wasn't going to be rude to those in his house, though he was a different story. Why had he even invited her in, didn't she seem beyond the levels of creepy, out there on his porch like that? He couldn't have honestly thought she just got splashed in front of his house, there was obviously some sort of suspicion he had.

Fortunately for Helga Pataki, there was not a thought relative to that in Arnold's head. He tittered before heading up the stairs with Helga two steps ahead of him, leaving little drips and drops everywhere she stepped. She did feel bad about the rain dripping off her clothes, but Arnold didn't act like he minded. It was just water, after all.

"I'm sure I have something you can borrow, for now." He said under his breath, and she raised a brow.

"Oh… Th-thanks. Well, where would I change?" She asked, keeping her voice almost too elitist for her to withstand. She didn't understand why she'd always been so rude to him, but as a child, it was the way she expressed it to him, and just the way he'd never understood. Neither of them had, and that was exactly the way she liked it. With a quick breath of air, he relaxed his shoulders, running his fingers through his gold hair like a useless comb. It came back into place.

"The bathroom…?" He asked, doubting her thoughts. Was she just dumb, or really disoriented? He opened a drawer, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants as well as a white 'wife-beater'. She snatched them from his hands and headed off toward the smaller room.

"And don't even think about peeking, Football Head!" He shook his head in reply, only laughing at what she'd said. Is that what she thought of him? Once she'd closed the door, he realized how softly she'd done it, and how confused he was all of a sudden. He'd sort of, well, expected something similar to a slamming noise, but it was gentle. Helga wasn't like that, though, and he knew that very well. Helga was far from soft, she was rough, and mean, and had no consideration to how others around her felt. At least, she'd come off that way for a long time. That was how she was, wasn't it?

He pushed doubting thoughts from his head, and pulled his eyebrows in together for a confused expression. He pulled his lips back in chagrin when she stepped out, hair in a slight poof, split between her exposed shoulders. She was, tiny, to put it out there. He'd finally grown taller during high school, and she was just… She wasn't so masculine anymore, and it was easy to tell.

She was still Helga Pataki, and Arnold was desperately trying to convince himself that he was not attracted to Helga Pataki. He just couldn't be.

"How come you were out in the rain, your dad couldn't pick you up…?" He murmured, and she rolled her eyes, taking a seat in the middle of the carpet. She pulled all of her wet hair to one shoulder, and looked to her lap when he sat on his couch. He relaxed once more, closing his eyes when she responded.

"Nope, busy." She said, curling up into a comfortable ball, since she didn't have much to lean against. Arnold's room had a little record disk playing, and she smiled at the sweet sound of his music. It was pleasant, he was pleasant, and she felt warm. She hadn't felt this good in a long time.

"Oh." Was all that came out, but it sounded more like a question than a retort. She bit her lip.

"He doesn't mind that it's raining?" Arnold continued, and she scrunched up her face. She wanted to be honest, she really did, but every time she tried, she'd sound stupid, or ridiculous. She didn't want to give a bad, or desperate impression. Not now that they were older, not ever. She wanted to impress him, she just never could, Helga wasn't capable of such things.

"He wouldn't mind if the world was burning down." She coughed out, rolling her eyes, and uncurling from her little ball. He bent forward, laying on the floor beside her, and putting all of his weight on his elbows to stare up at her. She pursed her lips uncomfortably in his wrinkled clothes.

"I wish my dad was around to 'not mind'," He said honestly, blurting out and almost finding the urge to cover his lips with his palm. What made that come out? Of course, that was what he was thinking, but he never said what he thought. He usually just did what he wanted to do; there were no 'other unfortunate options', when it came to Arnold. This was new, and this was upsetting.

"I'm sorry…" She breathed, but quickly regained composure, fixing herself with her chest to his carpet, relaxing down now, too. Arnold smiled lightly, but she pushed herself up, propping on her elbows as well, palms to her moist cheeks. She covered them when they flushed red. It was just an embarrassing habit.

"Don't be, -" He started, but she cut him off.

_Why do you want people who will never see you for who you can really be? Who don't seem to care about you? Who won't even remember your name?_

__"Be glad you don't have someone around to 'not mind'. It does a toll one someone, I guess." She coughed out, and he frowned then. He was a little fidgety, and out of his regular comfort zone, but obviously so was she. She was letting him speak without any 'Shut-Up-Football-Head's. "It's different that way, I'll tell you that much." She finished, and he almost felt his face grow in an equal warmth. What on earth was wrong with him, Helga Pataki shouldn't have made him blush; there was something about her right then. There was someone sensitive inside her that he'd never spotted before, and he wanted to make it go away. Arnold wanted her to tell him to shut up, to have her cheer up before he felt sick.

This Helga was a Helga he wanted to see more, but in a whole other set of feelings, he wanted her to go away. He didn't like to see her like this. She was the last person he wanted to see weak. Still, he thought she was lucky to have her father around, to at least have a sister to look up to. He didn't. He didn't have any siblings around, nothing of that sort.

"I guess you're right, Helga."

"No, Football Head, I'm stupid." She said, and she let out a yawn. She was obviously exhausted beyond reason, and he smiled at the old nickname. This was a quick little piece of bliss that he hadn't ever expected, but the feeling wasn't something he wanted to leave any time soon. Why was it that Helga looked so soft right there, her lips so plush and eyes so honest? He didn't move, but when she leaned forward with weight on her palms, she stretched and her nose dabbed lightly against his. Her breath was cool, and his was cooler.

_I am losing hope too much these days,_

_And in your love I'm swept away._

_Can you pull me in and keep me safe?_

She pushed first, getting a taste of the pained boy that had hit home ever since she first laid eyes on him. His unexpected move of rash courage responded for him, and they weren't forceful. Her lips were plush against his, and he suckled her bottom one to respond in a calm agreement, something settling that would leave Helga in Heaven for years to come.

Her, and his own first kiss to remember.

_I feel so far from everything, I try to find a silver lining._

_Everything around me fades, and dreams of you have turned to gray._

When the lip lock was broken, for something that humans called air, Helga looked down, unable to regain composure this time.

"S-sorry Football Head." She said, and he shook his head, a clumsy grin spread across his peach tinted complexion. A little woozy, every muscle of his relaxed, and he laid down beside her. The music was soothing, and she relaxed beside her beloved 'Football Head'. In the moment of relaxation, the two soothed to their own exhaustion, drifting off into their own little hour of Heaven, though both of their heads snapped up when a loud shout was heard.

"I won!" Pookie's voice, and two smiles of two very incomplete, though content teenagers.

_Can you pull me in and keep me safe?_

**AN: That was for Kaatareeeny, **** Hope you don't mind my odd change of fic, just a oneshot that I ended up really enjoying! I used Data Romance's Swept Away. The majority of the fanfic idea is not mine, but the writing is. I do not own Hey Arnold, as much as Katareeney probably wishes she does. xD  
Thanks for reading, reviews would be great!**


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